Better Safe than Sorry
by catharticone
Summary: A minor incident on Isle Esme reveals how Edward prepared for his and Bella's honeymoon.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**: The **Twilight** world is the property of Stephenie Meyer; no infringement is intended._

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The sun's heat felt wonderful, bathing my body in warmth. My arms dipped in and out of the water, glittering anew each time the light struck them. Bella's hands, so naturally warm and soft, glided over my hard flesh. She never seemed to tire of seeing the effects of full sunshine upon my skin.

My own hands would never tire of touching her in every single place that I desired. Each curve; every lovely finger, toe, and limb; each gorgeously soft breast; every inch of her smooth and supple back; the rounded flesh of her glorious little backside; and the hidden treasures between her creamy thighs—I could caress, kiss, and taste all of it for eternity and I would always want more.

I pulled her to me, pressing my mouth to hers as the balmy water lapped about our hips. Bella's hair shone brilliantly in the sunlight, and her cheeks were a lovely pink. I made a mental note to rub some more sunscreen on her as soon as we left the water. I knew I should do it immediately so that she wouldn't burn, but I wanted another minute to hold her against me.

My palms skimmed her back, my fingers twitching to untie the evil little string that held her bikini top in place. She laughed, understanding my intent immediately. Her hot fingers slid beneath the waistband of my swim trunks, and she gave me a mischievous grin.

Since the night of our second love-making session, we had touched and teased each other freely and joyfully. I could still see dusky traces of the bruises I had left upon her arms and hips after our first night on the Isle, but there were no new ones. We had been intimate five more times, and I had not hurt her again. She had always trusted me. Carlisle, Esme, Alice, and Jasper had trusted me, too. But I had not trusted myself.

"Oh!" Bella cried delightedly, "look!" Her gaze swept from my trunks to the brightly colored fish moving through the clear water only a few feet away from us.

Bella turned and took a few steps, her motions slightly restrained by the water. I chuckled softly, loving her enchantment with the many new sights on the island. It was charming to see a simple fish elicit such a reaction from her.

"I believe it's a discus," I told her.

"It's so pretty!" she exclaimed. She took another step toward it. "Ow!"

"Bella?" I questioned immediately. My eyes moved down to see a small, red cloud beginning to billow around her foot. "You're hurt, love!"

"Stepped on something," she muttered, beginning to move back.

I was at her side instantly, lifting her from the water. My gaze quickly sought out the source of her injury. There in the sand lay a large, broken shell. She must have cut herself on the sharp edge.

I carried her out of the water then hurried along the beach until we reached the house. Blood dripped from her foot, staining the pristine, ivory sand. The light breeze helped to dissipate the smell, but by the time we entered the cottage Bella was becoming pale and faint. I could feel the cool perspiration peppering her skin, and her heart rate and breathing had quickened.

I darted to the kitchen to grab a towel, then set her upon the couch. She sank back against the pillows, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious. I knelt before her to lift her foot and press the towel over the wound. I waited about thirty seconds, stroking her ankle comfortingly while monitoring the pulse in her posterior tibial artery. I had left the French doors open, so fresh air filled the room.

Bella's eyes remained closed as I pulled the towel away. The bleeding had slowed considerably but had not stopped. I examined the wound, finding a three-centimeter laceration slightly above her metatarsal joint. I dabbed away the blood then gently probed the injury. Fortunately it was no deeper than the cutaneous layer, and the edges were smooth. It would not require sutures. It would, however, need to be cleaned thoroughly and properly dressed.

I was grateful that Carlisle had recommended that Bella receive a tetanus booster when he administered the yellow fever and typhoid vaccines that I insisted she have. Bella had been less than pleased by these, questioning the necessity even as she expressed concerns about our honeymoon destination. I had remained guarded in my responses, simply telling her that the inoculations were a precaution, as we would be traveling through several airports, exposing her to numerous individuals while on the airplanes. She had agreed—somewhat reluctantly—and had permitted Carlisle to give her the injections, probably in part due to his sincerity as he told her that he wanted her to be as healthy as possible when she was changed.

I stood and quickly deposited the used towel in the laundry hamper, taking a fresh one on my way back to the living room. Bella's eyes were half open now, and a faint hint of color had returned to her cheeks. I wasn't even sure she realized that I had been gone; it took less than three seconds.

I wrapped the clean towel around her foot. The bleeding had nearly stopped, but I didn't want the metallic smell to bother her any more than absolutely necessary.

"It's not too bad, love," I told her, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It doesn't need stitches."

"Oh, that's good," she replied a little breathlessly, then, with a wan smile added, "Sorry."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," I said quickly. "I should have seen the broken shell… I'll be sure to check the water before we go in again."

She nodded. "I'm sorry you have to deal with it now, though."

"I don't mind." And it was true. The scent of her blood—even fresh and pungent—did not tempt me as it once had. I kissed her quickly on the lips then said, "Just rest for now. I'll get something to clean this up with," before dashing away again.

I had stowed the bag of medical supplies in the back of the linen closet. Now I retrieved it from its hiding place and darted back to Bella. I set the duffel on the floor beside her, opening it to rummage about for the supplies I would need. I pulled out Betadine and antibiotic cream then found the saline, empty syringes, and bandages. I set everything on the low table in front of the couch then excused myself once more. I needed to wash my hands and get another towel or two before I began.

I left Bella reclining against the pillows, her foot propped up on the table. When I returned, she was sitting up ramrod straight, a strange expression on her beautiful face. She looked surprised and… angry?

"Bella?" I questioned. "What's wrong, love? I'm sorry it took me a few moments—"

She shook her head dismissively and lifted her hand to point inside the bag. "Edward, what… what is all this?"

In my haste to remove the supplies I would need, I hadn't realized that I had displaced a number of other items, too. The large duffle bag was almost entirely unzipped, contents spilling out on the floor.

"It's just some basic first aid supplies," I replied, but even to my own ears the casual tone I affected sounded unnatural and forced.

She reached down to pick up a surgical suture kit and a set of retractors. "I've never seen these in a first aid kit—and believe me, I've seen plenty of first aid kits."

I swallowed, a mixture of remorse and regret filling me. "I just wanted to be prepared…"

"_Prepared_. For what?"

But her wide eyes and disappointed expression told me that she already knew the answer.

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_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

My flawless memory pulled me back to the day I had first sought out Carlisle's advice. It had been somewhat inadvertent, actually. I'd gone into his study to borrow a book, and he'd entered to find me clutching the medical text with a guilty expression upon my face. I had been so intent on locating the proper text that I hadn't heard him come in.

"Edward?" he asked, his quick eyes noting what I held against my chest. The cover was toward me, and I had my hand spread over the back. "Borrowing a book, I see." His sharp gaze shot to the rows of bookshelves, and he immediately noted that I had taken one of his medical texts. "Help yourself to anything you want. A good many of those were yours originally, anyway."

"Thanks," I murmured, trying to slip past him.

But he must have seen something in my face, because he grasped my arm gently as I passed him. "Is there something I might be able to help you with?" he asked kindly. His gaze flicked down to the book. He could still read a few lines toward the bottom. He knew precisely which text I had chosen.

He waited while I tried to decide what to do. I knew he wouldn't say anything if I simply left and retreated to my room to study the book. However, there was a part of me that needed to share my fears with someone, and he was really the only person with the knowledge to possibly be able to advise me.

"I just wanted to…" My voice trailed off. I turned the book around, clearly revealing the cover to him: _Essentials of Emergency Medicine. _

He gave me a gentle smile. "Come and sit with me for a few moments."

I followed him across the room to the two leather wing chairs near the fireplace. I sank down slowly as he moved the other chair around to sit before me. He glanced at the book still gripped tightly in my hands.

"Was there a specific question you had?" he asked, his voice as warm and calm as ever.

"No, not really… I just wanted to review, I suppose."

He nodded. "It has been a few years since you last graduated from medical school," he agreed amiably.

We both knew that he was trying to appease me. I could remember every word had ever read, every lecture I had heard, every image I had seen, with perfect clarity. Yet I had still felt a need to study the text and illustrations in the book.

He rested his hand lightly over my knee but did not speak again, waiting with quiet, accepting patience until I spoke once more.

"I'm so afraid I'll hurt her," I finally blurted out. "She wants me to make love to her. But Carlisle, she's so fragile, so delicate and small and… breakable."

"She is," he agreed honestly. "You will need to exercise considerable caution and control with her."

"Do you think it's possible that I can? From what Emmett and Jasper have told me—and from what I've heard and seen in the thoughts of others over the years—I don't know if I'll be able to restrain myself."

"I believe that you can." There was no hint of pacification in his voice or thoughts. His words were entirely honest.

"But I might _not_ be able to," I retorted. "And what will happen if I do hurt her?"

Instead of answering my question, he posed one of his own. "What did you want to find out from the book?"

This caught me slightly off-guard. "Excuse me?"

He touched the cover lightly. "What, specifically, did you intend to study?"

I swallowed and ran a hand through my hair, keeping the other pressed over the text. "I thought I should review some procedures in case I need to…" I drew a breath. "Help her afterwards."

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments, his thoughts silent to me as well. "That's probably a wise idea, Edward. I don't believe she will be hurt, but I suppose it's best to be prepared."

He stood fluidly, one hand coming to land upon my shoulder. He offered me an encouraging smile then added, "Take any other books you'd like. We can speak again later if you wish."

"Thanks, Carlisle," I said, but he had already vanished from the room.

The next evening, he asked me to join him in his office again. I could read little from his thoughts, aside from a few snippets about his activities at the hospital earlier in the day. I followed him into the study, and he gestured toward the chairs by the fireplace again. I sat, wondering what he planned to say to me. Often Carlisle liked to take some time to consider a particularly thorny issue or problem, preferring to wait until he had organized his thoughts fully to discuss it again.

However, instead of sitting down with me, as I had anticipated, he moved toward the desk and reached for something behind it. He retrieved a large duffle bag and set it on the floor before me.

"What is this?" I asked.

"I've gathered together some supplies for you to take to the Isle. I don't believe you will need them, but perhaps you'll feel less anxious knowing they're available." He gave me a small, thin grin. "Better safe than sorry."

He unzipped the duffel and removed a packet. "Steri-strips," he informed me, adding silently, _for immediate closure of wounds. _"Morphine," he continued, holding up the vial, _for pain relief. _Reaching for another vial, he said,"Lidocaine," _for a local anesthetic if you should need to do sutures… _"Suture kits—general and specific…"

As he took out each item, he gave me a brief explanation about its use, knowing full well that his instruction was extraneous. But the straight-forward, systematic information showed me that he took my concerns seriously.

When he had finished, and all of contents were displayed upon the low table (rivaling a basic ER's supplies), he asked if there was anything I wished to review or practice. Images of various suture techniques and methods for setting bones flashed through his mind.

This was my opportunity to ensure Bella's safety to a higher degree. I had worried that if I did injure her, it would difficult to seek immediate care. The island was several hours from the mainland, so getting her to a hospital would require time. At least with the supplies I could manage any pain I might cause her, as well as treat her wounds if they were not severe. This knowledge comforted me.

"Carlisle," I said, my voice husky with emotion, "thank you."

"You're welcome, son," he replied.

His thoughts contained only the highest regard for me. He honestly believed that I would not harm Bella in any way. Yet he understood my need for caution, on both the mental and physical levels, and he was glad to provide whatever assistance he could. He assuaged my fears—not entirely, but enough so that I could give Bella what she truly desired from me.

Yet now, after more than a week on the island, it seemed I had disappointed her again.

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_To be concluded…_


	3. Chapter 3

_Here is the final chapter in this short tale... _

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The bruises I had left on Bella's beautiful, brittle body after our first night together had frightened and shocked me. As soon as she had fallen asleep, I had examined her carefully, feeling gently along all of her limbs, her ribcage, and her hips to assure myself that my grip hadn't fractured any of her delicate little bones. Relief flooded me when I confirmed that I had not broken anything. I had not felt the evidence of the contusions, though.

She had slept on, exhausted from both the long journey and our lovemaking, while I sat hunched over her, still worried that I had caused a less obvious sort of damage. I inhaled slowly, intently, waiting for the scent of fresh blood to wash over me. It took me several long moments to realize that her delectable, natural aroma was all I could smell.

But then the morning light revealed the brutal bruises to my appalled eyes. I had vowed that I would not touch her—would not risk injuring her—until she was changed. Her disappointment had been wrenching, and in the end I had given in once again. The knowledge that I had the means to repair any damage I might cause had remained in the back of my mind, providing the small measure of calm that permitted me to worship her body as fully as she wished.

"Edward."

Bella's voice drew me back to the present. Sitting motionless upon the couch, she was staring at me, waiting for me to answer her.

"Did you really think," she began again, color flooding her cheeks, "that you'd need to use all of this on me?" She dropped the suture kit back into the bag.

"Better safe than sorry," I murmured, echoing Carlisle's words since I didn't know what else to say.

"But Edward, there's almost an entire emergency room in here!" she protested mildly. "You… you really believed you would hurt me badly enough to need this?" Now she looked disappointed, even melancholy.

I took her hands in mine. "I didn't know… I wanted to trust myself, but I wasn't sure, and it seemed like if I was over-prepared then maybe I would have a better chance of—of not needing it."

"Sort of like a reverse Murphy's Law?" she questioned.

I nodded. "I suppose so."

Her fingers tightened around my hands. "Oh Edward." A small smile began to curl over her beautiful lips. "_I_ trusted you. Wasn't that enough?"

I leaned in to kiss her. "Yes, love, I know now that it was."

I lingered, enjoying the warmth of her mouth against mine. But when the aroma of her blood grew stronger, I pulled back. The cut had begun to bleed again once she'd set her foot on the ground. It still required treatment. I took her foot in my hands and carefully placed it on the table, folding a thick towel beneath it. Then I went to work.

I didn't want Bella to feel any pain. I offered to give her an injection of Lidocaine, but she declined, saying she'd prefer the minor discomfort to the feel of the needle. While I would have preferred to numb the area, I deferred to her wishes.

I wiped away the blood with Betadine, then I filled an empty syringe with saline and irrigated the wound. She flinched a bit as I performed this necessary task.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I apologized, "but I have to be sure that all traces of sand and debris are removed."

"It's okay," she said. "It just stings a little."

I smiled up at her, and she returned the smile, nodding at me to continue. I dried the laceration carefully then applied antibiotic cream. I covered it with a thick gauze pad, secured with surgical tape. Then I kissed each of her toes before sitting beside her and pulling her into my lap.

"How does it feel?" I asked.

"Much better. Thank you." She kissed me softly, sliding her fingers into my hair.

We sat entwined in each other's arms for a long time, soft kisses and tender caresses expressing our love for each other. Finally I drew back slightly.

"Perhaps you should lie down for a little while," I suggested, trailing one finger over her thigh.

"But I'm not tired—I'm fine now, Edward."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "I didn't say you were tired, love. I just said I thought you should lie down... in bed."

A lovely shade of rose spread over her cheeks. "Oh! Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

I pulled away and began packing up the duffel bag. However, Bella's small, warm hand on my arm stopped me.

"I just want to get this put away," I said. "It will only take a few moments."

She shook her head. "Just leave it. You can put it back later."

"But I thought it upset you-"

"It did," she replied, "but now I understand. It just shows how very much you care about me."

I pushed the bag under the table and leaned in to kiss her deeply. "Mmm, I do... so, so much."

She giggled as I let her take a breath. "Anyway," she said, "there's nothing in that bag that I need now. You're the cure for all my ills." Her eyes sparkled as her hand made its way down my chest and over my stomach.

I growled happily and scooped her into my arms, carrying my beautiful, beloved bride to our bedroom.

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_Fin_


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